


words wouldn’t be enough

by atlantisairlock



Category: Military Wives (2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Coffee, F/F, Female Friendship, Fluff, Male-Female Friendship, Meet-Cute, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28045944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/atlantisairlock
Summary: Kate is in her final year at university and her dissertation is eating her alive. The girl at the cafe next door won’t stop flirting with her.
Relationships: Kate Barkley/Lisa Lawson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	words wouldn’t be enough

**Author's Note:**

> so uh i'm apparently incapable of writing short fics anymore lol.
> 
> if this feels ooc 1) mind your business 2) i thought the same at multiple points throughout the fic but literally only like ten people read the kate x lisa stuff i'm putting out and half of you are really just here for the gay so are we bovvered. cheers lads! 
> 
> yes the cafe is indeed called flitcraft because i'm funny. get it? because coffee brewing is a craft? right? right? get it? 
> 
> title from 'window seat' by thomston x wafia.

The first time it happens, she doesn’t even notice until she’s back in her room reworking the introduction of her dissertation and taking sips of her Flitcraft long black every time she finds herself deleting yet another sentence. Right after she backspaces her fourth research objective for what seems like the tenth time, she lifts her cup and realises there’s writing on the side. There usually is - the baristas will ask for name or initial to keep orders identifiable, but beside the black sharpie _KATE_ is a winky face. Below that in messy block letters - _UR CUTE!_

Kate stares at it for a good minute, completely puzzled. She’s been patronising the cafe for two years now, since she moved into student housing in her first year in university. It’s literally right beside her apartment building, the coffee is strong and tasty, and the prices aren’t daylight robbery. Kate is twenty-one years old and fiercely determined to graduate with first-class honours and be the best in her cohort, and that has meant several all-nighters spent going over her assignments after long days crammed full with readings and extracurriculars. By extension this has meant consuming more caffeine in a week than most people would in a month. She’s the cafe’s best customer and she’s pretty sure some of the full-time baristas know her by name, though they never exchange more words than Kate’s order and a ‘have a nice day’. They’ve never written more on Kate’s cup except her name. Until today.

She was rushing today while getting her coffee, eager to get upstairs and get back to work; she didn’t notice who was on duty behind the counter. She wonders just who at the cafe thinks she’s ‘cute’.

Eventually, Kate simply finishes her coffee and disposes of the cup. She tries not to think too hard about the note. It’s not like there’s anything she can do about it.

The next time she goes to the cafe it’s three days later on a Saturday evening that Crooks tells her most people would be spending watching a movie, or having dinner with a friend, or hitting up a club near campus. Kate is doing none of those things, obviously; she had a long day, attending a meeting for the university newspaper and running errands she didn’t have time for during the week, and she doesn’t have more than a scrap of time left to work on her dissertation tonight. Her advisor had some scathing remarks about her ‘significance of research’ section in her introduction and she really wants to address all the issues before their next meeting. She goes in to grab coffee before heading up to her room to get work done.

There’s a new barista at the counter, a girl she’s never seen before. She looks about the same age as Kate; she has dirty blonde hair that falls in soft curves just over her shoulders and sports dark blue jeans under the pale grey polo tee that all the Flitcraft staff wear. There’s an elegant silver watch on her left wrist and her nametag is upside down. She beams at Kate when she walks over to the counter. “Hi there. Welcome to Flitcraft. What can I get you?”

“Er, hi,” Kate says, feeling momentarily unseated - the girl has a lovely voice and bright smile and is very, very pretty, and Kate’s _human,_ okay, she can be thrown off balance by a pretty girl. “Just a long black. Takeaway.”

“Long black takeaway. That’ll be two quid. Name or initial?”

“Kate with a K,” Kate replies, pretty much on autopilot. She hands two pounds over and the girl drops the money in the register, printing Kate’s receipt. Kate takes it and heads over to the pick-up counter to wait. The girl hums as she brews Kate’s long black - it sounds like something by the Human League - and Kate keeps glancing up from her phone to watch her. She’s been in uni for two years, frequenting the cafe, and nobody - here or on campus - has really caught her eye, and she’s been just fine with that. She’s far too busy with her academics to think about a relationship.

But she can look. She can appreciate the view (and it definitely is a very nice one).

“There you go,” says the girl a few minutes later, setting the paper cup in front of Kate. “Enjoy your coffee, Kate. Have a great day.”

“Thank you,” Kate replies, and the girl smiles wider. It makes Kate smile back, and she’s still smiling when she heads towards the door.

She sees it just as she wraps her fingers around the handle to push the door open - familiar black script on the side of the cup. _KATE WITH A K,_ and another winky face beside that. Right below, still in the same block letters, slanting right, _NICE SHIRT!_

Kate looks down at the simple white blouse she picked out today, then turns back to the barista, who’s taking an order from another customer in front of the counter. She goes to put it in the system and meets Kate’s eyes; she grins and gives Kate a jaunty two-finger salute before heading off to brew another coffee.

All thoughts of her dissertation vanish from her mind on the walk back up to her room. She’s still a little dazed when she gets to her desk and collapses in her chair and stares at the writing on her cup. She lets the coffee get cold as she pulls out her phone to text the boys.

**To: 3 Muskgayteers**

_There’s a new barista at the cafe beside my flat._

_… I think she’s flirting with me?_

**From: richard :)**

_Aww, is she cute?? :) ask her out <3_

**From: crooks ;P** ****

_SHAG HERRRRRRR_

“Hi, Kate with a K,” says the barista when Kate enters the cafe on Monday evening. Today her hair is tied up in a loose ponytail and her nametag is right side up - _LISA,_ it reads in bold Arial. “What can I get you today?”

“Long black takeaway. Thank you.”

“Long black takeaway,” Lisa repeats. “You get the exact same thing every time you come to Flitcraft?”

“Yes,” Kate confirms - Richard and Crooks had once badgered her into trying an iced mocha because Crooks swears by them; she’d gotten halfway through all that sugar and whipped cream before giving up and she hadn’t been able to stomach any dinner that night. She’ll stick with what she knows.

“You sure we can’t tempt you into trying our new cranberry frappe? It’s our seasonal drink for Valentine’s Day.” Lisa punctuates the last two words with a wink, and Kate sighs. “It’s _September.”_

Lisa gestures lazily with one hand as she returns Kate’s change with the other. “We’re always ahead of the trends. What’s five months?”

Despite herself, Kate laughs out loud. Lisa grins back and turns away to brew her long black. Kate sees her reach for a sharpie and ducks her head to hide a small smile as she pretends to stare at her phone. Lisa sets her coffee cup on the counter blank side facing Kate when she’s done making her coffee. “There you go. Have a great day. And try our cranberry frappe next time you come in!”

Kate rolls her eyes, still smiling, as she takes the cup and heads out, turning it around as she goes to read what Lisa’s written this time. Her name is in small letters with an exclamation mark behind it and a smiley face with its mouth open. _I LIKE UR LAUGH_ is written below. Kate reads it and feels a blush rising to her cheeks. She’s not used to little compliments like this. Lisa doesn’t know anything about her besides her name and coffee order and Kate knows even less in return, but her words seem so sincere and it makes Kate feel pleased and flattered and happy. When she returns to her room and types away on her laptop while sipping her coffee, it seems to taste better today.

It turns out that Flitcraft has actually started offering frappes at some point in time that Kate didn’t notice because yeah, long black every time. The cranberry frappe is not, as Lisa claimed, actually a seasonal drink; customers can order it year-round. Kate orders a cup on Wednesday on the way back from campus, because it sounds mildly interesting and she feels like a sweet treat after two three-hour lectures back-to-back mid-week and _no other reason, okay?_

She orders a flat white and iced mocha to go with her frappe since Richard and Crooks are coming over to study. Lisa hums curiously as she inputs Kate’s order. “Changing things up today, are we? I feel like I am legally obliged to inform you that this much caffeine in one sitting is really not good for your health. And if you need to pull an all-nighter you should just go with four espresso shots. Don't do that, though. I'm not actually sure if you would die.”

“They’re not all for me,” says Kate. “I’ve got some friends coming over to study.”

“Ah,” Lisa grins. “And which one of these are for you? Might it be… the frappe?”

“No,” Kate lies, trying not to blush furiously. Lisa gives her a sidelong glance, full of mischief. “I don’t see a long black on the list.”

Kate mumbles inarticulately as Lisa chuckles. She takes her change and goes to the side to wait for her drinks. She sees writing on all the cups when Lisa sets them out, but she doesn’t look closely, just chucks them all into a paper bag before she can embarrass herself further. “Enjoy your flat white. Or your mocha,” says Lisa in lieu of a goodbye. _“Certainly_ not the frappe.”

“Goodbye,” Kate says firmly, and darts out, trying not to let her thoughts linger on the sound of Lisa’s genuine laughter.

She actually doesn’t end up drinking the frappe. Kate takes one sip and gags from how overly sweet it tastes, and the awful greasy texture of whipped cream. “Oh my god, that’s disgusting,” she gasps, setting it heavily on the floor. “Who is _drinking_ these? Richard. Give me your flat white, _please_ give me your flat white.”

Richard eyes the frappe dubiously, inching his flat white closer to him. “I don’t want your _frappe_. Trade with Crooks.”

“I don’t want his stupid iced mocha either. What is wrong with both of you? How can you fill your veins with sugar on a daily basis? It’s _disgusting.”_

“Ooh, I’m Kate, I’m so adult, I’m so sophisticated, I only drink Real Coffee unlike you plebs,” Crooks says, as high-pitched as his voice will go. He hands his mocha to a grumbling Richard and shoves the flat white towards Kate and snatches the frappe, slurping it as loudly and obnoxiously as possible. “Why did you buy it then? You’ve been drinking nothing but long blacks since you were in the womb.”

“None of your business,” Kate mutters, sipping the flat white - it’s way too milky for her taste but it’s the best option; at least she can taste the espresso. She needs the caffeine if she’s going to get through this essay for her Gender and Education module. “I just wanted to try something new.”

“Uh-huh,” Crooks deadpans. “By the way, why does your flat white say _I WON’T TELL?”_

“What?” Kate turns the cup around and sees Lisa’s writing, clear as day. “What the heck is that?”

“Mine says _IT’S OK,”_ says Richard, lifting the mocha to show them. “What’s on the frappe cup, Crooks?”

 _“DRINK ME,_ winking face,” he reads aloud. “What does that mean?”

Kate, unfortunately, is pretty certain she knows what it means. Richard looks at her with an amused smile. “Is this the work of that barista you said was flirting with you?”

“Oh my God, _that’s_ why you got a frappe, isn’t it. She said it was her favourite drink on the menu or something insanely cheesy like that and you got it as a way to _flirt back_ \- “

“I did _not!_ And she _never_ said it was her favourite drink!”

“Oh, so it _does_ have something to do with her,” says Richard, ever annoyingly incisive. “Tell us more. Is she cute? Do you know her name?”

“Has she been writing messages on all your coffees? Where are all your coffee cups? Have you _binned_ them? You binned her flirting? Awful. Where’s your bin? Where are the cups?”

“Stop! It’s _none of your business,”_ Kate exclaims, tempted to throw her notes at Crooks’ head. “Shut up and drink your coffee. We need to study.”

Crooks ignores her (and his essay), turning to Richard. “I think we should stake out this cafe. See how cute this barista really is.”

“Put one foot past the Flitcraft door and I’ll cut your balls off,” Kate threatens. _“Get back to work!”_

“The frappe sucked,” says Kate first thing when she returns to Flitcraft the next evening. Lisa raises her eyebrows and gives her a faux-confused look that pretends at innocence. “Did it? I seem to recall you said you weren’t drinking the frappe.”

“Shut up,” Kate mumbles, pulling two quid from her wallet. “I want a long black. No more of this frappe nonsense.”

Lisa gives her a thoughtful look as she takes Kate’s money. “What kind of coffee do you like? Other than long blacks? I bet I can find something new that suits your tastes.”

“No thank you. I’m fine with my usual. I don’t like trying things I can’t be sure I’ll enjoy.”

Lisa arches her eyebrows as she moves over to the brewing area. “You’ve got to take risks in life, Kate. ’s the only way you’ll get anywhere interesting.” She hums as she makes Kate’s coffee, smiles at her when she slides it over the counter. “Next time you come around I’ll make you something tasty, okay?”

Kate wants to flat-out say no; not after the frappe saga. She wants to say she’s perfectly happy with her long black and she has no interest in being Lisa’s guinea pig to try new drinks. She certainly doesn’t want to be stuck with some monstrosity that’s more steamed milk than espresso and have to pay for it.

Lisa gives her a wide-eyed, almost pleading, playful look, and Kate finds herself caving instead. “Fine. But _no_ frappes.”

“No frappes,” Lisa promises. “Have a good evening! See you again soon.”

Saturday morning she drops in for something to perk her up while she spends the whole day working on her dissertation - she’s been neglecting it a little the past week in an effort to rush out her essay, just get it _done_ and leave it aside. Lisa isn’t behind the counter and Kate feels momentarily disappointed, then irritated at herself for it. Why _should_ her heart sink just because Lisa isn’t her barista today? She comes to Flitcraft for the coffee, not for her. It’s idiotic. Anyway, it means she can probably order her long black in peace. Kate strides determinedly to the counter to place her order. The barista on duty looks up - today it’s Dawn, who Kate has been seeing in Flitcraft for about a year now. Dawn’s quiet and soft-spoken and has never said more to Kate than ‘hi, what can I get you’ and ‘enjoy your drink’, which suits Kate down to the ground.

Today, however, is different. Dawn perks up when she sees Kate, hitting a few buttons on the cash register even before Kate can open her mouth. “Hello, Kate! You can just head to the counter. I’ll have your drink ready in a minute.”

“But I haven’t even ordered,” says Kate, confused. Dawn just smiles brightly at her and goes for a cup. “Lisa left us a note on what to make you the next time you came in. Don’t worry, it’s on the house.”

“Oh.” Kate’s rendered slightly speechless - Lisa was _serious_ about this coffee business. She feels inexplicably nervous. There’s a reason why she sticks with long blacks and she isn’t sure what she’ll say to Lisa if she doesn’t like whatever Lisa selected for her. She usually waits until she gets back to her room to drink her coffee, but today she opens the lid once Dawn hands the cup over and takes a cautious sip.

And… it’s _good,_ Kate realises with some surprise. It’s dark and strong and bitter, scalding hot in the best way as it rolls over her tongue. It has a more complex flavour than a long black and it’s definitely much stronger. Dawn giggles at her shocked expression. “It’s a red eye. Drip coffee with a shot of espresso. Is it good?”

“Yeah,” Kate says slowly, placing the lid back on the cup - she’s going to enjoy this while she works on her dissertation. “Wow. Um, say thanks to Lisa for me, will you?”

Dawn grins. “You can thank her yourself the next time you come in. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” She pauses, then adds helpfully, “Lisa works evenings, 5PM until closing. Including today.”

The knowing look she gives Kate makes Kate wants to turn and run in embarrassment. “Right. Got it. Thanks. I’ll - okay. Thanks again.”

“Bye,” says Dawn as Kate hustles out of the cafe and back up to her room with coffee in hand. Her cup looks a little blank without Lisa’s writing on it, but the coffee is good. And _very_ strong, she realises about an hour later. She’d been planning to pop down to the cafe later in the evening to drop Lisa a quick thank you, but she gets so hopped up on caffeine that she gets through an entire chapter of her dissertation within an afternoon, then proceeds to crash for hours; by the time she wakes back up, it’s midnight and she has a slight headache and her mouth tastes like something died in it. Her phone has three missed texts from Richard - first asking if he can borrow one of her readings, then asking why she hasn’t picked up his calls, then asking if she’s died. She blearily texts back that he’s an idiot, then drags herself to the bathroom for a shower before she passes out again.

“How was the red eye? Did you like it? Dawn told me you said it was good,” Lisa greets Kate when she drops in on Sunday evening. Her hand is poised over the cash register. “Another cup for today?”

“No thanks,” Kate says with a slight shudder. “It _was_ good. But _really_ strong. Are you sure it was coffee with one shot of espresso and not three? I couldn’t stop bouncing my leg for two hours. And I had a caffeine crash after I powered through a whole chapter of my dissertation.”

Lisa laughs out loud, and Kate notes grumpily to herself that even her laugh is melodious. It’s annoying. “So, back to your long black?”

“Not today, thank you. I’m not feeling a coffee today.”

“Oh. Well, we’ve got tea, if you want that instead - it’s black tea, if you take your tea like your coffee.”

“Oh. No, it’s fine. I don’t need a drink.”

Lisa gives her a curious look. “So you came in to…?”

Kate curses inwardly, feeling caught out. “I just - um - wanted to say thanks for the coffee. It was, er, nice of you to make it on the house. You didn’t need to do that.”

A smile creeps up Lisa’s face, getting wider, and there’s a hint of amusement and delight in her eyes. Kate feels something wilting inside her; she wants to slam her head against the wall. How does this charming, aggravating barista render her so idiotic? Lisa rests her elbows on the counter and puts her chin in her hands, beaming up at Kate. “You’re _very_ welcome,” she drawls. “It was my pleasure.” She gives Kate a wink and Kate honestly wants to _die._ “I look forward to making you another coffee soon, Kate.”

“Right,” says Kate. “Well, bye,” she finishes, and scarpers.

When Kate recounts the whole story to Richard and Crooks after lectures the next day, Crooks laughs so hard he topples off his chair and nearly cracks his head open.

Kate kicks him in the ankle and ignores him when he howls.

She starts stopping by the cafe more regularly. Six weeks into the semester she realises she’s somehow ended up buying a coffee _daily._ It’s a problem.

“How are you affording all this?” Sarah marvels during yet another meeting to discuss their paired assignment. Sarah is one of Kate’s favourite classmates - she’s intelligent and industrious, and she pulls her weight; Kate prefers working alone but if she _has_ to be partnered up for group assignments she’s always glad to have Sarah with her. They’ve been meeting every evening for a week to get the work done together and Kate has had a long black with her every time. Kate sets her cup down and feels a little guilty - Sarah’s not terribly well-off and Kate realises it must seem pretty profligate to be buying fancy coffee every day. “Er, well. I mean, it’s not _ridiculously_ expensive, you know. It’s just two quid. Do you like coffee? I can buy two cups tomorrow - “

“Oh, no, that’s fine. I was just surprised. I mean - is it that good?”

“Here, try some.” Kate offers her cup and Sarah takes a sip, then smiles. “Oh, it _is!_ Wow, that’s strong. What is this?” She turns the cup around to look at the writing and see if it tells her the name of the drink, and just sees Lisa’s note of the day instead. _GD LUCK WITH WORK!_ accompanied by a smiley face and a small heart. Kate sees Sarah’s eyebrows rise. “That’s cute,” she says, turning to give Kate a interested look. “Are you _sure_ you’re going to this cafe just for the coffee?”

“Well,” Kate says, and doesn’t continue. She’s pretty sure she’s blushing. Sarah, blessedly, doesn’t make fun of her, just smiles and hands the cup back to Kate. “It’s certainly good coffee.”

Yeah, it definitely is. It just always tastes better when Lisa makes it.

Halfway through the semester, she starts doing work in Flitcraft after dinner, late into the evening until they close up at eleven. Some idiot has moved next door to her in student housing and seems determined to throw a party every night, and the cafe is spacious and comfortable and there are power points everywhere so she can charge her laptop in peace, and it means she can get her coffee in a proper cup instead of a paper one and it just tastes better that way, and _why is she even explaining herself she can do whatever she wants._

“Of course you can do whatever you want,” Richard says patiently. “But it’s just… pretty obvious that you want to spend more time with your barista.”

“She’s not _my barista!”_ Kate yells. “And I’m not ‘spending time with her’. She _works_ there and I _study_ there and I drink my coffee and I get my dissertation _done_ so I can graduate with first-class honours.”

“Whatever,” says Crooks, yawning obnoxiously. Kate is going to shove her coffee cup into his mouth and she’ll see how many ‘whatevers’ he can say after that. “Hey, how does she write her flirty little love notes now that you’re drinking out of ceramic cups?”

“None of your business,” Kate replies, because Richard and Crooks absolutely do not need to know that there are always sweet, short messages on the napkin that comes with her coffee. Lisa’s switched to ballpoint pens because marker ink bleeds through the napkins, and her notes are longer now. _UR HAIR LOOKS NICE TODAY!_ and _DON’T SLEEP TOO L8!!_ and one time a nifty little drawing of a girl with a laptop under one arm and holding a thick sheaf of papers in her other hand. _VALEDICTORIAN KATE!_ is written above the girl’s head.

Kate won’t lie - that one makes her tear up a little bit. She’s spent a _lifetime_ having her parents laugh indulgently when she tells them about her passions, her ambitions, her father ruffling her hair and telling her _you go do that, Katie,_ when she’d told them she wanted to study Education in uni and become a teacher. _We’ll have a real teacher in the family,_ her mother had added, in a tone that’d clearly said they were just humouring her silly little dreams. Her parents own three businesses and are worth millions between them, and her three older brothers have followed them down the same route. They give Kate the freedom to pursue what she likes, have paid in full for her education and hundreds of pounds of her allowance find their way into her bank account every month, but they never reply text messages until three days later with a flippant _sorry, darling, we’re just so busy,_ and Kate’s pretty sure her brothers forget she even _exists_ some days. Kate’s always felt like an afterthought, a sixth person in a five-person family. She’s _always_ been the very best in her classes, her cohorts, has sacrificed so much to maintain that, and nobody ever seems to acknowledge that. Even Richard and Crooks spend half the time urging her to be less serious and just _enjoy_ herself sometimes, reminding her that beating all her academic equals to the dust isn’t the be-all-end-all of university life. And Kate _knows_ that, she does, but just once she’d like someone to see how much work she puts into pushing herself further. She just wants someone to wholeheartedly believe in her and support her in her pursuit of greater things.

She’s not sure Lisa gets that entirely - as much as Kate has started spending more time in her presence, typing away on her laptop while Lisa brews coffee for the slow, steady stream of customers passing through the cafe, their interactions have remained fairly limited to chatting briefly over the counter and Lisa’s little napkin notes. Lisa doesn’t know all her struggles, all her dreams, and when Kate really thinks about it, that makes the little messages of encouragement even more meaningful.

She doesn’t tell a single soul, Lisa inclusive, but she brings her favourite napkin notes home and keeps them in a small tupperware box in her closet. She doesn’t look at them that often, but every time she catches sight of the box, it makes her smile.

Winter break - her last one as a university student, barring the possibility of failing her dissertation and having to repeat the year and if that happens Kate is honestly just going to jump off a cliff - sneaks up on her; Kate stays on campus as she has for every other semester break because the bustling city is far more homely than her huge, sterile bedroom in her huge, sterile house. Most of the part-time baristas at Flitcraft, the uni students taking a side job to offset school expenses, take off until the semester starts again. Annie and Jess, the sweet young couple who run the cafe, stick around, of course. So do Dawn, and Hilary, and Beatrice, and so does Lisa.

“Not heading home for the holidays?” Kate asks on yet another bitterly cold evening. The heating in her room isn’t much to shout about and the longer the days get, the more Kate embraces sitting in the toasty warm cafe and drinking her coffee as she types away on her laptop. Lisa has an idiotically cheery headband on her head sporting tiny reindeer antlers; they bob around when she shakes her head. “Nope,” she replies, popping her ‘p’. “Neither are you, I see.”

There’s a hint of a question and a challenge in her reply and Kate bristles for a second before realising Lisa probably doesn’t want to talk about it for reasons similar to Kate. She can understand that; she switches gears. “You’re here _every day._ Don’t you take a break?”

“ _You’re_ here every day,” Lisa points out over her shoulder as she brews Kate’s long black. Kate rolls her eyes. “As a _customer_. I’m not _working.”_

“Aren’t you? Whatever you’re doing on your laptop seems a hundred times more stressful than propping myself against the counter making coffee for people.”

“You’re very annoying,” says Kate, because if there’s one thing that gets on her nerves it’s when people can’t give her straight answers. Lisa just laughs good-naturedly as she puts Kate’s cup on the counter, along with a croissant on a little plate. “You _just_ figured that out? Keep up, Kate, keep up. Here’s your coffee and your pastry, have a good evening.”

Kate frowns. “I didn’t order a croissant.”

“I know,” says Lisa, still maddeningly casual and cheerful. “But I’m pretty sure all you’ve eaten the whole day has been instant ramen and _maybe_ a granola bar, and a freshly-baked croissant would probably do you some good. Take it, it’s on the house.”

“I’m really not sure Annie and Jess would approve of you giving away free food,” Kate says drily. Lisa scoffs. “Uh, we do it literally every day. Jess always bakes too much, so anything we’ve got left over at closing goes to the homeless. You’re probably earning the cafe a full two percent of its revenue with your frankly worrying caffeine habits, Kate, so no, I really don’t think Annie and Jess are going to kick me out on my arse because I gave you _a_ croissant.”

“Fine,” says Kate, trying to quell the rush of warmth and thrilled delight flooding through her. “And… thank you.” She’s not going to admit as much but Lisa _is_ right about her only having eaten instant ramen today. She’s busy, okay? She has _four_ months to submission and she is a hair’s breadth from slipping behind her timeline, and she does not have the time to _go out and eat proper food._ That is just how it is.

She settles down at her usual table and lifts her coffee cup to peek at the napkin between the cup and saucer. It’s a little sketch of a stressed-looking girl sitting at her cramped desk with her laptop and about seven cups of instant ramen scattered around her. Below the drawing is a frowny face and a short line - _2 MUCH SODIUM = BAD! :(_

Kate laughs out loud and instantly tries to pretend she didn’t, steadfastly refusing to look Lisa’s way; she _knows_ Lisa’s turned to grin at her. Jesus. She’s definitely keeping this napkin.

And if she cuts down on the instant ramen consumption after that day, well, it’s nobody’s business but her own.

Kate takes exactly two days off her dissertation during winter break - Christmas Eve and Christmas. She spends all of Christmas Eve at Sarah’s place - Sarah lives with her parents in a tiny flat about thirty minutes from uni but it’s warm and cozy in a way Kate’s home never has been. Her parents are throwing a small party for friends of theirs who are alone for Christmas; it starts at 6PM and Sarah’s invited her boyfriend, Liam, as well as Kate. Kate goes over earlier in the afternoon so she and Sarah can make candy apple slices that she can distribute to the Flitcraft staff tomorrow, just as a little token appreciation for them working so hard on Christmas.

“Shall we do a separate bag for your barista?” Sarah asks as they slice up the prepared candy apples. “What’s her name? Eliza?”

Kate sighs, wondering how even _Sarah’s_ gotten in on this. She knows she’s talked about Flitcraft and Lisa once or twice while working on their paired assignments, but surely not _that_ much? “It’s _Lisa_ , and she’s not ‘my barista’, and no, we don’t need a separate bag.”

“You sure? I bet she’d appreciate it,” says Sarah. And honestly, Lisa probably would. But Kate’s not doing this to _flirt_ back at Lisa or anything ridiculous like that, she’s trying to show her appreciation and respect for the baristas at her favourite cafe. So no, she is absolutely not going to pack a separate bag. “Let’s just get this done,” she mumbles, focusing hard on slicing her apples so Sarah doesn’t push any further. Thankfully, because she’s not nosey like Richard and Crooks, she lets it go and they finish up their prep in blessed, comfortable silence.

The Flitcraft staff are positively delighted when Kate brings in her candy apple slices the next day; Annie practically falls over herself to thank Kate. They distribute the remaining slices to the other customers in the cafe, most of whom are poor beleaguered university students also doing one assignment or another even on the happiest day of the year. There’s a real atmosphere of cheer while everyone munches on their sweets and Annie tells her all her coffee and pastries in the case are on the house for the day.

“This is a great Christmas gift,” Kate says, while Lisa puts the chicken pie Kate selected into the microwave to heat up. Lisa turns to grin at her, her lips slightly shiny from the sugar syrup residue of the apple slices. “Is it? You’re _very_ easy to please, Kate.”

Kate doesn’t respond to that with any more than an eye-roll and Lisa laughs. “No, seriously! What do you really want for Christmas?”

Kate goes quiet for a second, because she does have an answer to that question. It’s the same answer she’s wanted to give for years, ever since she was old enough to realise that Christmas was supposed to be a special day, that most people didn’t spend it alone at home as usual while her parents worked and her brothers remained at boarding school. All she’s ever wanted was one Christmas that feels like home, like family. Sitting in the cafe surrounded by students just like her while Annie and Lisa ply her with all the coffee she wants is nice, but she just wishes -

She doesn’t say any of that, though. “First-class honours and a perfect grade on my dissertation,” is the answer she goes with instead, just to see Lisa snort and roll her eyes good-humouredly. “Okay, Valedictorian Kate. Should’ve expected that answer.”

“Well, what about you, then?” Kate retorts. “What do you want for Christmas?”

Lisa tilts her head and regards her for a moment, then grins wickedly and darts towards the laptop set up in the corner of the back counter. She clicks a few keys and the slow, jazzy rendition of Ave Maria playing over the speakers suddenly switches to something more fast-paced. The voice isn’t familiar, and it takes Kate a few seconds to realise that it’s a cover of Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You. Lisa is smirking and Kate sighs heavily, raising her eyes heavenward. Of course. Lisa still has that stupid grin on her face when she returns to the counter to get Kate’s chicken pie out of the microwave and finish brewing her long black. “Nice cover,” Kate says. “Who sang it?”

Lisa gives her an inquisitive glance. “Can’t you tell?”

What, is she supposed to know? Kate’s not exactly a Christmas music expert. She listens harder to the low, lilting voice, smooth and lovely, and shakes her head. “Sorry. Who is it?”

“Me,” says Lisa, beaming even wider and chuckling at Kate’s shocked expression. “Yeah, I’m serious.” She sings a few lines and _wow,_ okay, suddenly Kate can hear it; that’s definitely Lisa’s voice over the cafe speakers right now. It’s beautiful. She stares at Lisa, completely taken aback. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

“Now you do,” Lisa replies simply, and doesn’t say any more than that. She hands Kate her pie and coffee with requisite napkin under the cup. “Enjoy!”

Today’s napkin has a small Christmas tree topped with a mortarboard. At the base is a certificate with the words _FIRST CLASS HONOURS_ on it in tiny print. Underneath the drawing it says _MAKE MY WISH COME TRUE?_

Kate laughs softly, runs her fingers gently over the sketch. She keeps it by her laptop as she starts on her pie and opens up some videos to watch, just to relax. The cafe’s warm and the food and coffee is good and Lisa’s voice fills the space, and it’s not home or family, but it is a very nice Christmas.

The second semester comes around, the final one for Kate, and for Sarah, Richard and Crooks too. The latter two do not seem to realise this, if their incessant pestering upon returning to campus is anything to go by. “Have you finally shagged her?” Crooks demands, first thing, when he barges uninvited into her room, Richard following slightly more sedately behind him. “Was she your New Year’s kiss? Tell us everything!”

Kate spent New Year’s Eve checking her schedule and buying groceries and consolidating her last reading list in Flitcraft - Lisa’s napkin note of the evening had simply said _HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!_ \- before turning in promptly thirty to midnight. She tells Crooks so and he groans. “You’re fucking kidding me. That was the _perfect_ chance! When are you going to get it together and just ask her out?”

“She’s pretty and funny,” Richard points out. “If you don’t strike while the iron’s hot, someone else is going to sweep in and charm her socks off and then there goes your chance.”

Kate throws her hands up in exasperation. “Why does everyone just assume I actually want to date Lisa?!”

Richard and Crooks give her baffled looks. “Do you _not?”_

“I mean - I don’t _not_ want to, it’s - no! I mean, it’s more complicated than that and - look, I need to focus on school. I have one semester left and a dissertation due in four months, and may I remind you both, _so do you,_ and you could be working on yours instead of playing Cupid and being gossipy little shits.”

“Kate, if anyone can balance your academics and a relationship, it’s you,” says Richard. “Why are you so scared of taking a chance?”

“I’m not scared,” Kate snaps, irritated. She doesn’t want to talk about this and she doesn’t want to think about someone else sweeping Lisa off her feet. She has no time for distractions now that it’s a pivotal semester. She’s got four months and then she…

Her mind draws a bit of a blank there. She’ll have to undergo specialised training but she doesn’t know where she wants to do it. London has been wonderful the past three years but she isn’t sure if this is where she wants to be forever. Going home would be a safe option, and she wouldn’t have to worry about housing for one thing, but she doesn’t know if she belongs back in Cornwall either. She’d just wanted to get out so badly, three years ago, pursue something she was passionate about and stand on her own two feet. She hadn’t thought _that_ far ahead and considered the specificities.

Things still feel safe right now. She still feels buoyed by the safety net of university life. She’s developed a comfortable routine with Lisa at Flitcraft and she’s content. She just isn’t sure if the potential reward is worth the risk.

Crooks and Richard’s words are still on her mind the next evening she goes to Flitcraft. She blames them for the way her hackles rise when she heads towards the counter and sees another girl there, chin propped on her fist and chatting easily with Lisa like they’ve known each other forever. Lisa laughs at something she says and the girl tilts her head and smiles at her and something about it makes Kate’s blood go hot, her fingers clenching into fists before she can stop herself. She sets her jaw and tries to blunt the sudden, sharp spike of anger as she reaches the counter. Lisa catches sight of her and immediately draws up, giving the girl one last charming smile. “Got a customer,” she says breezily, like Kate’s just _anyone else_ who’s walked in. “Chat with you later, yeah? Sit wherever you like, I’ll bring you your coffee in a bit.”

“Alright,” the girl says, heading to one of the window seats. Lisa hits some buttons on the cash register and the order for a long black pops up. Kate doesn’t hand over her money just yet. “That a friend of yours?”

“Who, Ruby? Yeah, she’s a mate,” Lisa replies. “Met her my first year at uni and we’ve been close since, even after I dropped out.”

Kate blinks, the question _how close?_ on her tongue chased by _you dropped out of uni? When? Why? How come I didn’t know this?_ She curls her lip, not enjoying the reminder that she doesn’t actually know that much about Lisa. Including whether she has a _girlfriend,_ even while she’s drawing silly little sketches on her napkins and writing notes on her coffee cup. “She seems nice,” she says, trying to sound casual.

She doesn’t succeed. Lisa stops, then folds her arms on top of the counter and leans close to stare up at Kate, beginning to smirk. “Why, _Kate,”_ she says, dragging out Kate’s name for exaggerated effect. “I do believe you’re _jealous?”_

“In your dreams,” Kate mutters back. “Just get me my coffee,” _and then you can make some stupid fancy frappe for your close-mate-girlfriend,_ Kate doesn’t add. She feels grumpy and tired and annoyed and she just wants to get her coffee, find a good seat, and get back to work.

Lisa takes the two quid Kate hands her and starts making her coffee, her tone relaxed and unfazed. “Ruby’s in her last year, like you. She was doing Econs with me in her first semester, then realised Econs was hell and switched to Fashion Media. That’s where she met her _current_ girlfriend.”

“Oi, don’t think I didn’t hear that!” Ruby hollers from across the cafe. “I resent that very pointed tone in the word _current!”_

“Didn’t say anything,” Lisa calls back with the easy snarkiness shared by good friends. She gives Kate a knowing look and beams when she sees the way Kate’s relaxed. _Not_ Lisa’s girlfriend. Okay. Okay, that’s cool. Everything’s just fine. Not that it would have been the end of the world if Ruby _was_ Lisa’s girlfriend, but - whatever. _Whatever._

“You don’t have to be jealous,” Lisa says cheerfully. Kate huffs. “I’m _not,”_ she repeats. Lisa grins, looking relaxed and utterly carefree, and the question spills past Kate’s lips before she can think twice. “How come you dropped out of uni? Were you supposed to graduate this year too?”

Lisa doesn’t stop smiling or doing her usual quick doodle on Kate’s napkin, but Kate sees the corners of her mouth go tight, something flickering in her eyes. “A story for another day,” she says, before Kate can apologise for touching a sore spot. She settles Kate’s cup on top of the napkin and saucer and hands it over. “There you go.”

Kate glances at the drawing - just a big frowny face framed by shoulder-length hair and _KATE_ written under it, as if it wasn’t already clear enough. There’s a small _cute!_ and a tiny heart alongside the face. Kate sighs - it’s adorable, as usual, but she can’t stop thinking about what she’s learned about Lisa today. Did they really share a campus for two years? How did she never notice Lisa around before? She supposes the Econs and Education majors wouldn’t cross paths very often, but… still. It’s a strange feeling, realising they were schoolmates for so long and Kate never knew, would never have met her, probably, if Lisa hadn’t started working at Flitcraft. If she’d met Lisa somewhere else - bumped into her on campus, or shared an extracurricular - would they have gotten along this well? If they’d been coursemates and Lisa had seen her across lecture theatres instead of small cafes, would she still have thought Kate cute?

The coffee doesn’t taste as good that evening, and she doesn’t get much work done either.

It’s a slow Thursday night, some days after, and Kate sits close to the counter, waffling for about an hour before finally deciding to just take a chance and ask. “Lisa?”

“Mm?” Lisa looks up from where she’s hip-checked against the back counter, flicking through her phone. “Another coffee for you?”

“No, not yet.” Kate takes a deep breath and gets the words out quickly before she loses her nerve. “Can I just ask? Why did you drop out of uni?”

Lisa raises an eyebrow, not moving from where she stands. “You’re still on that, huh?”

“I was just curious,” she says softly, feeling embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Lisa looks at her searchingly for a minute before shrugging, the movement fluid and careless. “It’s fine. I get it. It’s not much of a story. I studied Econs for two years to make my parents happy, but it was _miserable._ Decided last year that it was ridiculous and I didn’t want to waste any more time when I could be making music. So I left.”

Kate remembers Lisa’s cover of All I Want For Christmas playing in the cafe weeks ago, the rich, wonderful vocals, the expert instrumental backing. “You’re pursuing music full-time now?”

“I guess. I’ve been writing and producing a couple new songs. Taking a few small gigs where I can get them. The usual slog, you know. And as for paying the bills until I get something solid… that’s what Flitcraft’s for.” Lisa smiles without a hint of bitterness. “My parents aren’t really talking to me anymore, not after I dropped out. So I’ve got to make do with what I can, and figure out rent and stuff. But I’m happy,” she adds quickly when Kate’s expression changes to mirror the ache above her breastbone. “I’m doing what I want to do, and I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I know where I’m going and how I’m going to get there. So… I’m happy.”

She gives Kate a dazzling smile and Kate feels a brief tinge of jealousy. Lisa is confident and risktaking and self-assured in a way Kate wishes she was but doesn’t know how to be. What would things be like, if she could be a bit more like Lisa?

“Can I listen to one of your songs?” Kate asks. She wants to hear Lisa’s words, not just see them on paper cups and brown napkins. Lisa’s lips curve upwards, quick and pleased, and she walks over to the laptop on the counter, fingers on the keys. The ambient music stops, and a few seconds later a different song starts playing. It’s unmistakeably Lisa’s voice. Kate closes her eyes and listens intently, letting the dips and leaps in the melody wash over her, Lisa’s vocals honey-warm and equally sweet. The song is gorgeous. Kate is smiling when it comes to a close. “That’s beautiful,” she says, meaning it. “You’re a great singer.”

“Thanks,” says Lisa. Her voice is softer, gentler, without her usual sharp, dry witticism. “That means a lot.”

The atmosphere in the cafe feels different; it’s mostly empty, only one other customer in a corner with her headphones on and completely absorbed in the sheaf of notes on her table. Lisa’s smiling at her and she looks lovely, in her Flitcraft polo and her hair tied up. It feels like a shift in the air. Like something could happen, like something could change.

“Remember me when you’re famous,” Kate says, attempting humour to break the tension. Lisa snorts and everything instantly goes back to normal; Kate feels relieved and slightly disappointed all at once. Only for a moment, because Lisa keeps going like nothing’s happened. “Yeah, right. I’ll be lucky if I ever get to record a proper EP. It is what it is.” She returns to peering into the glass case, evaluating the remaining offerings. “We’ve got a banana walnut muffin left. You want it? We’ll be donating all our food after closing anyway.”

“Sure. Thanks.” Lisa nods and goes to warm it up and Kate returns to her work, slipping back into peaceful, comfortable routine.

Every time she goes to Flitcraft after that, she gets song lyrics written on her napkin along with whatever sketch Lisa’s made for the day. Beautiful and poetic, each one, and Kate thinks any studio exec worth their salt would snatch Lisa up to produce an album in a heartbeat. She tells Lisa as much, and Lisa just laughs, but Kate can see how much it means to her. “You’re going to do great too,” she tells Kate. “Valedictorian of the cohort. I know it.”

And Kate’s really, really trying to. As the weeks begin to tick down and she juggles her final module assignments with completing her dissertation, she starts to spend less and less time outside her room. Her advisor comes down hard on a couple sections in her fourth chapter, her research findings, the most important bit, and Kate stays up late three nights in a row rewriting paragraph after paragraph.

She stops spending whole evenings in the cafe because the fewer distractions the better. She explains as much to Lisa the day after the message on her coffee cup says _I MISS U :(_ and Lisa asks why she never sees Kate around any more when she stops in for her coffee the next evening. Lisa looks disappointed but understanding, and all her coffee cups after that have encouraging little messages and reminders to take care of her health while she works hard. It’s sweet.

“It’s sad,” says Crooks, when she makes the mistake of inviting him and Richard for an intense study session in the common area of her apartment. A couple of the other students in the building are there too, and they’re all trading dissertations and giving peer reviews and checking for spelling and grammar errors. She’s squished in at a table with Crooks, Richard, and Maz and Helen, two girls living on the floor below her. “She’s practically declaring her undying love for you on a billboard and you’re faffing around playing hard to get or some nonsense. This is not a Nancy Meyers movie. You two are not going to magically end up together if you don’t grab the moment by the balls and _do something about it._ It’s painful to watch, Kate. _Painful._ Actually, I wish it _was_ a Nancy Meyers movie. Then you’d at least have kissed by now. At this point a kiss on the cheek would be a revelation, I’d pop the champagne. Am I right, Richard? Am I not right?”

“Please never speak again,” says Kate. “And your relentless obsession with my love life is honestly disturbing. Why don’t you worry about your own for a change? Or Richard’s? Find Richard a nice boy or girl to go out with. Or focus on your dissertation. I know for a fact you haven’t even _started_ your fifth chapter and we have _one month left to go.”_

“Nobody has started their fifth chapter with one month left to go, Kate, you’re just insanely overachieving and spoiling the market for everyone else. And you’re changing the subject.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing. Nobody needs to hear you ramble incessantly about how you think Lisa and I should date - “

“No, he’s right,” Maz pipes up, looking all too delighted to chime in rather than work on her dissertation. “You should just get all this peacocking over with and ask her out on a date instead of smiling soppily at ballpoint drawings on paper towels.”

Kate squints at Maz, and at Helen, who’s nodding sagely along to her girlfriend’s words. She has seen the two of them maybe five times in the entirety of her three years in university and she’s pretty sure this is the first time either of them have said more than two words of greeting to Kate. “How exactly do you know this?”

“We study in Flitcraft sometimes too, you know. We ain’t blind. I think half the regular customers have been placing bets on when either one of you will just get it together and ask the other out.”

Kate gapes. “But I - what - I - wait, I’ve never even seen you two there - “

“That’s because you’re always looking at Lisa,” says Helen in a patient tone of voice Kate imagines one might use with a small child. Crooks and Richard go off in gales of laughter and one day Kate is going to sneak into their rooms and shave their eyebrows off, she really is. Her face burns. Helen smiles at her kindly. “You like her, don’t you? And she likes you very much. What’s stopping you?”

Kate doesn’t reply. She turns her gaze back to her laptop and types furiously and determinedly enough that even Crooks knows to take a hint. The table falls silent again as they all return to their work, and Kate doesn’t think about how she knows and doesn’t know what’s stopping her, all at once. She doesn’t want to talk about it.

She does end up having to, sort of, two weeks before her final submission. She’s already submitted two other assignments for the last modules she’ll ever take; she’s got one more essay and then it’s just her dissertation left. The night she’s due to submit her essay, she goes down to Flitcraft later than usual to get her coffee so she can pull an all-nighter. Technically, she doesn’t have to - she’s only got three paragraphs left and she’s expended enough time and effort on it that it probably doesn’t need any major editing before submission, but it’s become a habit. Why not?

“Why not?” Lisa repeats incredulously when Kate makes the order and Lisa asks her what in the world she’s doing drinking a long black at ten-thirty at night. “Because all-nighters are bad for your health, and you’ve been doing nothing but push yourself for months, and you really should get some sleep tonight?”

“My essay - “

“You literally just told me you’ve got three paragraphs left. You could be done with that by midnight. No. Leave off the coffee. Go to _sleep_ once you’ve submitted the essay. I’m serious. You need to take better care of yourself, Kate.”

Kate groans and puts her forehead against the counter. “I should keep working on my dissertation after I submit the essay. I’ve only got two weeks left.”

“Yeah, and I bet you’ve got maybe half a chapter of that left, combined with your acknowledgments and _maybe_ your citations, which in no universe is going to take _you_ two whole weeks to complete, so you can afford to get nine hours of sleep for once.” Kate makes an irritated noise and Lisa beams because she knows she’s right. “Two weeks, wow. Seems like it was just yesterday you walked in here at the beginning of your last year.”

“Feels that way sometimes,” Kate admits. “It’s been a really fast academic year.” And a really good one. Kate feels warm and fuzzy thinking back on it, and at the back of her mind she knows a lot of that is because of Lisa. Meeting her, becoming friends, bantering over coffee and pastries. “I’m definitely going to miss this.”

Lisa laughs. “What? Staying up until ridiculous o’clock to type ten thousand words about education in England with more coffee in your bloodstream than blood? Really?”

“You know what I mean,” Kate snorts. “Coming to Flitcraft. Talking nonsense. Drinking good coffee.”

“Come on, it’s not like leaving uni means you’ll never be able to come back. You can keep doing that, just without the crazy pressure of deadlines on your shoulders.”

Kate regards Lisa, choosing her words slowly and carefully. “I might not,” she says. “I’m - you know I’m not a London native, right? I love it here, but I don’t know if I want to call it home _forever.”_

Lisa’s smile slips, completely, for a short and painful moment. “Oh,” she replies softly. “Right. So you might go back to…”

“Cornwall? Yes. That’s where home is.” Even though it’s never felt like a home to her - but still. She gets to call it hers in a way she can’t with London, surely. Lisa nods, expression going distant, then determined, in quick succession. “I see. Have you made up your mind?”

“Not yet,” says Kate, not missing the way some of the light returns to Lisa’s eyes. Lisa ducks her head into the case and pulls out a croissant stuffed with ham and cheese, sticking it into the microwave. “No coffee. You can get some food to tide you through finishing the essay.” She grabs a paper bag and a Sharpie and starts scribbling away, and Kate waits patiently. Lisa’s probably right. She might as well.

“Have a good night. Get some rest,” says Lisa, handing over the bag with her croissant once she’s done. Her smile is a little less vibrant tonight, more hesitant, more nervous, and Kate tries not to think too hard about that. “See you soon.”

She doesn’t look at the message on the paper bag until she gets back to her room, boots up her laptop to finish her essay. She plates up the piping hot croissant and smooths out the bag so she can read the words on it.

 _CAN’T LET U LEAVE LONDON WITHOUT ONE DATE,_ it says in slanting letters. _I REALLY LIKE U KATE!! CALL ME PLEASE?_

Kate stares at the digits written on the bag, feeling like she’s been poleaxed. Lisa has been flirting for months, giving Kate compliments and encouragement, and Kate’s not stupid and she’s always known Lisa was interested, but this is the first time she’s ever overtly, explicitly declared she likes Kate and wants to go out with her. Even after knowing Kate might leave and they might never see each other again. She’s taken that leap of faith just for one small chance, and Kate - Kate is still paralysed. She still doesn’t know what to do.

She doesn’t drink any coffee. She finishes the essay but doesn’t get back to working on her dissertation, but neither does she sleep at all that night.

She doesn’t go back to Flitcraft for four days, just stays in her room working on her dissertation. She eats instant ramen three meals in a row until she remembers Lisa’s little napkin drawing from ages ago and feels guilty, and switches to ordering in and going through her entire stash of granola bars. The sudden halt of caffeine in her system makes it hard to stay up at night and her instant coffee sachets just aren’t the same.

Kate eventually caves and returns to the cafe, timing her visit at a busy hour with several customers in the queue so Lisa doesn’t have time to do more than take her money and make her coffee. She looks like she wants to say something when she hands Kate’s coffee cup over but Kate doesn’t give her the time, scrambling out of the cafe with just a hurried ‘thank you’. She doesn’t look back because she doesn’t want to see the hurt and confusion she just _knows_ will be written all over Lisa’s face.

It’s clear enough in her message on her cup. _U DIDN’T CALL ME? :( DID I SAY SMTHIN WRONG?_ and smaller than that, _I MISSED U THE PAST FEW DAYS. R U OK?_ and finally, in tiny, tiny print, no capitals, _m sorry if i overstepped n read signals wrong. if u dont want 2 go out on a date can we please still b friends? i rly miss u n im rly sorry._

Kate’s throat feels tight; suddenly the coffee tastes sour on her tongue, clinging to her teeth, and she pushes it away. She likes Lisa so much. She doesn’t want to hurt her. She doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t know if she wants to stay in London, or if she can make that decision just to be near Lisa. Cornwall isn’t really home either, nor the house at her listed address, nor the people living in it. But it’s safe, and so is being on her own. Lisa is beautiful and funny and talented and wonderful but Kate has never done this before and it’s still a great big unknown and she thinks, more than anything, that she’s afraid.

She feels like an unknown too. Lisa has only seen her over a counter, within the four walls of the cafe. She doesn’t know what she’ll do if the spell ends once they remove that line between them. If Lisa won’t like her any more once she gets to know Kate as she really is.

Eventually she decides it has to end, one way or another. Kate thinks it over for an entire night before writing Lisa a letter - text on paper has been working well for them so far, so maybe it’ll work with this too. She writes everything down - the fear of what she can’t see, can’t control, can’t know for sure; her resentment towards her family and how she’s never felt like she’s belonged anywhere, with anyone; her uncertainty when it comes to this thing between them, how afraid she is that the scales will fall from Lisa’s eyes once she really gets to know Kate properly. She tells Lisa how she isn’t sure her desire to be free trumps her desire to be safe, that she doesn’t know if she can accept the love she’s given or give it back because she’s never been afforded the opportunity to do either. She pours it all out, signs off with her number and the line _if you still want to call,_ and seals it, then goes to Flitcraft the next afternoon well before Lisa’s shift starts. She entrusts the letter to Jess, who willingly, if uncertainly, takes it. “Whatever it is, you can give it to her in person, you know,” she says sympathetically. “You can talk to her. Lisa’ll understand.”

Kate knows that, but she can’t look Lisa in the face for this. She just can’t. It might be the last time they see each other and Kate can’t have her last memory of Lisa be holding the letter that Kate thinks might end it all. If Lisa doesn’t want to be her friend or go out with her any more after reading what Kate writes, she wants to remember Lisa smiling and Lisa singing and Lisa teasing her and annoying her and making her laugh on cold evenings in a warm cafe. Glowing and glorious. Perfect.

Lisa doesn’t call. Kate throws herself into finishing her dissertation and doesn’t go to Flitcraft. She forces herself to tide through the ensuing caffeine withdrawal by occupying her mind with nothing but her dissertation and sleeping more than usual. Richard and Crooks send concerned messages; Sarah brings cookies and leaves them outside Kate’s door and Kate thanks her but doesn’t invite her in. She just wants to be alone. Every time her phone buzzes with a notification and it isn’t Lisa, she just wants to crawl into bed and not get up.

One day before her submission deadline, Kate leaves her room for the first time in a week to get her dissertation printed and spiral-bound. When she gets back and opens the door to her room, there’s a square envelope on the floor right in front of her and she only just manages to avoid treading on it. When she picks it up, her heart leaps. In big, familiar letters on the front is four simple words. _KATE WITH A K._

Kate’s hands shake a little when she opens it. Inside is a blank silver CD and a folded note. Kate slides the CD into her laptop’s disc drive, opens her music player, and turns the volume up.

It’s Lisa’s voice, and she sings a song Kate’s never heard before. It’s soft and slow, no complex instrumental backing or glossy vocals - just Lisa’s perfect voice, rich but raw, backed by a piano.

Kate listens, and listens, and listens. Five songs, each one bleeding seamlessly into the next. The last one is the original she heard in Flitcraft when she first asked Lisa to let her listen to something she’d written, but this time it sounds more pensive, more longing. _If that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is._

She finishes the five songs and plays them again. She plays them until she begins to pick up the lyrics with greater clarity, until she’s able to sing along to a chorus or two. She’s on her fourth repeat of the third song when she remembers the note that was also in the envelope, and quickly unfolds it to read what it says. Similarly simple. Three words. _I know you._

It doesn’t make sense for about half a second, until Kate grows a fucking brain and it slams right into her, stealing the breath from her lungs. She rewinds to the very beginning of the first song and listens with acute intensity as Lisa sings about a small-town girl who sits in a moor wearing her best dress looking at the clouds and wondering what it would be like to touch them; about a girl who watches the world spin and feels like it’s always a little off its axis; about a girl who bleeds for what she loves and grinds herself down to powder for what she wants, who is flawed, and brilliant, who has stars in her skin -

Lisa has written songs about her, Kate realises. Lisa has written songs that capture Kate for who she is, at her very core; songs that make her feel seen, because Lisa has been watching her, and listening to her, and learning her so much better than Kate thought was possible, than anyone ever has.

_I know you._

And _yes,_ Kate realises, yes, she does.

Dissertations are due at 11.59PM the next day. Crooks texts their group chat despairing of whether he’ll be able to make the deadline; Richard sends a frowny face, Kate sends a laughing one, and Crooks calls her an arsehole. In retaliation, Kate responds _the arsehole who’s going to ask Lisa out tonight :)_ and waits until he’s replied with about ten texts consisting mostly of incoherent key-smashing before turning her phone off and ignoring the boys for the rest of the day. She helps Sarah do a final proofread and accompanies her to get it printed and bound at one of the more out-of-the-way printers that isn’t currently being besieged by hordes of students similarly doing last minute printing, then they make their way back to campus to turn their dissertations in and be rid of them once and for all.

She leaves Sarah to go celebrate with her parents and Liam, with a promise to keep in touch, then strides briskly to Flitcraft. It’s about 7PM when she gets there but thankfully there’s no one in the queue. Annie is helping Jess stock the case with some new bakes and Lisa looks up from her usual spot at the counter. Her eyes widen when she sees Kate, when Kate walks straight up to the counter. Her heart is pounding and she can feel the nervousness and uncertainty and determination thrumming through her. It feels slightly like an out-of-body experience. She doesn’t wait for Lisa to open her mouth and ask what she’s doing here. “I just submitted my dissertation.”

The surprise on Lisa’s face morphs to delight immediately. She looks so beautiful when she smiles like that. “Kate, that’s amazing! Well done. I’m really happy for you.” Annie and Jess have looked up and they’re also nodding and smiling. “Go on, have anything you like in here, it’s on us. Your usual? Maybe a croissant? Pick whatever you like - what do you want?”

“Just you,” Kate says, looking straight at Lisa, and reaching across the counter to pull her in by the collar and kiss her. Lisa makes a soft, surprised noise but instantly starts kissing Kate back, and around them the cafe seems to explode into noise - Kate’s pretty sure she hears someone shout _IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING!_ and seriously, has _everyone_ in Flitcraft really been watching the two of them fall into each other’s orbit? Unbelievable. She’d be more embarrassed and honestly a little bit incredulously outraged if she wasn’t kissing Lisa right now, because it’s the most amazing thing she’s ever done.

“Whatever plans you have after your shift ends tonight, they’re cancelled,” says Kate after they part, feeling flushed and happy and confident, running on adrenaline, all her fear forgotten. “I’m taking you out for supper.”

“No, you’re taking her out for dinner because her shift ends _now,”_ Annie calls, with Jess laughing by her side. Lisa grins at Annie over her shoulder. “You sure you can handle tonight without me?”

“Just get out of here,” says Jess. “Unless you two want to spend the rest of the night getting mobbed by customers eager to congratulate you for finally getting your shit together.” She turns to Annie while Lisa salutes them both, gives Kate another quick kiss and rushes off to the back to change out of her polo. “Are you going to tell the other baristas or am I? Who’s won the pool? Is it Dawn?”

“Oh my _god,”_ Kate says, because why is she even surprised Lisa’s colleagues were running a betting pool on this? She blushes when the customers in the cafe give her a short round of applause and turns away, going straight to Lisa’s side once she exits, with her hair untied and her Flitcraft polo switched for a very flattering blouse. Lisa holds up a hand and heads back behind the counter, brewing a long black while Kate waits, feeling curious. She pours it into a paper cup and grabs her Sharpie and scrawls some words, then heads out to give the cup to Kate, taking Kate’s free hand in her own. “There. For old time’s sake.”

Kate lifts the cup to eye level and peers at the words. _UR CUTE,_ and a smiley face. And below, in bigger letters, is _I HEART YOU!!!_

Kate laughs. She feels free. She feels safe. She feels happier than she has in a very long time. She’s still not sure about sticking around in London or what she’ll do if she does, where she’ll work, where she’ll live. She’s honestly not sure if this is something that will last a month, a year, let alone forever. But she’s just ended three of the most important years in her life and now she’s beginning something new. There’s a girl beside her who has bright eyes and a beautiful voice and who thought Kate was cute the first time she saw her and still does and wants to keep telling Kate so, who sees Kate for exactly what she is and holds her hand like she never wants to be anywhere else. There’s a girl beside her who hearts her, and Kate really hearts her too.


End file.
